


The Rival

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 08:02:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17341634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: A pregnant Lynn is dismayed at the ever-increasing evidence that Actor is spending time with, lavishing attention on another woman.   Would anyone be surprised that she was less than pleased??





	The Rival

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third of the Actor stories stirred up by that special request. Yes, I know, he operates mostly off-stage, but still . . .

She was fat! None of her clothes fit. Her hair had lost its usual shine, her skin was blotchy and unpredictable, so that it flushed oddly when she cried or laughed or became angry, (and the timing of all of those emotional outbursts was becoming quite unpredictable as well). She was always tired, heading to bed long before the others, far too tired to even stay awake and talk to him when he did come to bed. She couldn't accompany him even the shortest distances without having to embarrass him by demanding he find her a bathroom. She'd told herself that this would all pass, that she just had to be patient, that HE would be patient. Nine months wasn't THAT long, at least it had never seemed so before.

She hadn't been expecting that he would grow weary of being patient, though perhaps she should have. After all, Actor had a long history with women, beautiful and elegant women. That little black book of his was probably only the most recent edition of a multi-volume set. She hadn't even known he still had it, not til she found it sitting beside the telephone. It was just a little black leather-bound book; how could it look so malevolent, just sitting there?

She tried to ignore the signs, but soon that became impossible. Soon it was obvious - there was another woman. Phone calls being made or received -phone calls quickly disconnected when she entered the room. Visits to London for which his explanations didn't quite ring true. Receipts in his sock drawer for highly suggestive items - gold settings, diamonds, sapphire chips. One had been a receipt from a London establishment for 'one satin and lace night ensemble, in deepest sapphire, with matching bedroom slippers'. A letter from a London realtor, confirming that they had 'found just what you were looking for - a small but elegant private dwelling in Mayfair, in a section well known for its discretion. We have placed the deposit per your request, pending your personal inspection.'

She was miserable, and was made even more miserable for feeling guilty for snooping, at least in the beginning. But now? After hearing just that snippet of conversation between Actor and her brother, - 

"Yes, Craig, I perhaps should have told her earlier, but I admit it suddenly had gone farther than I realized, and then it seemed too late to tell her. Perhaps it is best to wait and explain matters when she is not so emotional."

"I understand, Actor, believe me I do. But you have to tell her SOMETIME! I know it's not going to be easy, but you don't want her finding this out on her own!"

\- she was mad as hell. She wasn't going to stand for this! She was going to fight, if it took her last breath. He'd made her a promise, and by damned, she wasn't going to just let someone waltz in and take him from her! And she knew just who to ask for help, who would be willing to fight alongside her! Just as soon as she made another stop at the bathroom! She made a mental note, too, to tear out a goodly clump of her loving brother's pretty blond hair! Stupid man! How dare he side with Actor in this??!

 

Meghada poured the tea at the counter, instead of at the table, taking the opportunity to tip a heavy slug of bourbon into her own cup. {"Erdu knows, I'm not going to be able to handle this without some support!"}. She sat both cups on the table, making sure she had the 'enhanced' one at her own place setting, and reached back for the fresh scones and butter. Lynn might protest being hungry, but they'd both be the better off for having something to do with their hands, having an excuse for pausing to think through a comment instead of blurting it out.

"You KNOW he loves you, Lynn," Meghada tried to soothe her.

"I KNOW he SAID he did. I know I THOUGHT he did. But that was before!" She was getting more and more wound up, that last almost a wail!

"Before?" Meghada was still trying to be reasonable, but realizing that wasn't doing a hell of a lot of good. Still, it seemed ONE of them should, and by default that seemed to be her lot; Lynn wasn't making any bid for that role certainly.

{"Ah, well, she has excuse enough,"} Meghada thought ruefully, remembering a few meltdowns of her own when she'd been in the throes of what her mother had always called 'the overly-excitable nerves of impending motherhood.' Her father had frequently had a few other words for the experience, though he was cautious about when and how he repeated those words. He still bore the scar of that first little slip of the tongue, though the story of just what she'd used to hit him with seemed to vary with each telling. Meghada figured it was probably her mother's prized rolling pin, since that had gotten the most mention, and since that object DID have an odd crack down one side.

"Yes, before! Before I found out I was pregnant! Before he was well and truly trapped! Before I got fat! Before I . . . ".

Meghada had thought Actor had been pretty well 'trapped', if that was the right word, and she was pretty sure it wasn't, when he'd finally figured out he was solidly in love with Craig's sister. She wasn't sure what was going on, but the love she saw in the tall Italian's face hadn't diminished during the past months, had only seemed to grow in depth and intensity.

She realized her mind had drifted away from the so-called conversation when she saw Lynn's fiercely determined eyes gazing at her, and heard that voice, "so you'll help me, yes??! I won't let her steal him away, not while I'm at a disadvantage! I know we can be happy together, I just know it." Her face started to crumple again, and the sobs started again, "I thought we WERE happy together!"

And Meghada found herself, once again, with an armful of sobbing woman. She refrained from rolling her eyes; she was willing to cut Lynn a lot of slack for a whole slew of reasons, (not the least because Lynn had done the same for her on a couple of occasions), but she was NOT finding this a comfortable position to be in. She hadn't liked it with Julie, she didn't like it now!

She heard a slight sound and raised her eyes to see a wide-eyed Goniff peering at them from the safety of the next room, before he disappeared in a display of sensible self-defense. Well, he wasn't getting away that easily; she was going to get to the bottom of this, and blast it, he was going to help her! After she'd gotten Lynn settled down for a nice long nap, she'd gone hunting for her blond haired laddie.

"And I need you to do this, quickly, before she gets even more upset. If she's mistaken, which I imagine she is, it needs to be cleared up soon. If she's not, he needs to be singing a few octaves higher, even sooner!" The look in her amber eyes brooked no dispute, though heaven knows he tried.

He protested, "don't like to get mixed up in their business, 'Gaida!" 

She hooted in sheer disbelief. "Since when? You were happy enough to get mixed up in Chief's business a couple of months ago. And I remember you being more than willing to get mixed up in Craig's business, on several occasions. Casino? Oh, DO let me count the times and ways!!"

He flushed, "ai, well, that's different!", though by that one wry arching eyebrow he could see she didn't consider it all THAT different. He sighed, knowing this was one quarrel he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of winning. {"Just who do I know up in London who might know this ruddy skirt?"}

***

"Well, why don't you just TELL 'er? Don't see no reason to go making a big production out of it," he argued, once more of the facts had come to light.

"Perhaps because she's in no mood to listen, Goniff. She has to KNOW, for sure, not just accept my word for it. Yes, I know you don't understand, but believe me, in her condition, she's not likely to just nod and say, 'very well, I'll just stop worrying about it'. Likely just send her spiraling further out in a tizzy, thinking I'm trying to pull a fast one on her too."

Both Goniff and Garrison were still bent on arguing the matter.

"I agree with Goniff, Meghada. We know what's happening; there's no reason for her to have to make the trip to London and confront this Shiraz or anyone else. And I don't see what her condition has to do with it. YOU were pregnant; YOU never . . ." and he stopped to see that rueful smirk, and faint blush.

"Oh DIDN'T I just!!!" she admitted with a sheepish laugh. "Made every bit as much of a fuss as Lynn is making and for probably as much of a reason! Well, more, most likely!"

"You DID? When??" Craig asked, incredulously, casting an eye over to a totally bewildered Goniff.

"Oh, there were more than a few occasions. Remember Doris? That dainty little blonde who came tripping through here, antique hunter, stayed at the pub to make the rounds with Mrs. Wilson for a couple of weeks, fluttering her eyelashes and simpering at you both? The one who kept twitching her 'bustle' up against both of you whenever you got into range? The one who kept handing out all those little 'hints' about needing a 'strong brave man along to help me searching out treasures in the old barns and attics hereabouts. Why, whatever would I do if I ran up against a spider or a mouse or something dreadful like that?' Fluttered her eyelashes so hard and fast I thought she was likely to take flight any moment! Didn't know whether I was coming or going while she was here, cursing one minute, crying the next. You remember HER, surely!"

The two men looked at each other, shrugged, and turned back to Meghada. "Uh, no, not really," Garrison said with some hesitation, Goniff displaying an equal lack of knowledge. Of course, with Goniff, you could never be quite sure just how real that was. With Craig, well, he sometimes really WAS just that dense.

"Well, what happened with this Doris? I mean, if you were that upset . . ." Garrison asked cautiously, not really sure he wanted to know the answer, but figuring since this all concerned his sister, he might as well be prepared for the worst.

That smirk just got wider, "Doris decided the water didn't suit her here, not after she washed her hair and it got those purple streaks and sploches in it. Well, and that mouse in her purse did seem to get her pulse afluttering as much as her eyelashes had been doing. Seems she truly DIDN'T have a fancy for rodents, though you'd think she'd have been used to it with her searching out antiques and such."

That shut Garrison up, but not Goniff, who gave an appreciative chuckle.

"Well, alright, 'Gaida, but that was only the once . . . Ah, it wasn't just the once, was it?" and he was grinning now, wishing she'd asked him for his help, thinking all that sounded like something he would have had fun being involved in. 

Garrison was now looking at both of them, total innocent bewilderment on his face.

She raised doubting eyebrows, glancing over at Goniff, then back at Garrison.

"Well, what about Frank Tillerson, just back from the war? Tall, dark, handsome, and ever so dashing with that little moustache of his. Was awfully interested in the fit of your trousers, Craig, as I recall. Seemed to admire the curve of your arse quite a bit. Wanted to slap that smirk off his face right smart I did; he took off sudden-like before I had the opportunity, though."

Goniff spoke up, "now 'im I remember. 'Ad to get a bit brisk with 'im, I did, if 'e's the same bloke I'm thinking of. Appreciating from afar is one thing, and can't rightly say I'd blame 'im for that. 'Ave to say, aint never seen a better curve than w'at your arse 'as to it, Craig, then OR now. But 'e got just a little too sly, thinking to get an up close view and maybe a little more. Still, once I 'ad a quiet little word with 'im - the ol' trick worked just fine; drop a roll of coin in yer fist, keep your thumb on the outside, aim for the nuts - works a right treat, every time."

Garrison looked at both of them, wondering just where he'd been at the time, since he had NO recollection of any such person. And you'd think he would have, considering it was HIS arse they were discussing so freely. Of course, it was nice to hear that Goniff still considered it a worthy sight, but still . . .

And there went the conversation, since it seemed both Goniff AND Meghada still found his arse a subject worthy of not only observation but further (and closer) consideration, though eventually they DID get back to the main topic.

"And then there was the time you both went on that consultation to Avignon, and every time I picked up the phone for weeks after, there was some giggling little . . . Ah, there was a 'lady' by the name of Marie calling for one or the other of you two."

Garrison flushed a deep red, "Marie Bouchet was sixteen, and had a habit of developing a crush on any blond man under the age of sixty she ran into. It didn't mean anything, and once her father got the bills for those cross-Channel calls, they stopped, didn't they?"

"Yes, well, I found it somewhat less than pleasing, especially when she kept asking if I was your mother, "such handsome sons, though quite different in some ways. Still, ever so tres bon, the both of them!" Even more especially when I'd just had to order new blouses and skirts, my old ones no longer meeting at the joinings!" she frowned at them.

Goniff grinned, "remember that, I do, right well. 'Ave to admit, kinda liked that. Wouldn't a minded if you'd just kept wearing the old ones a while longer, the blouses, I mean, even if those buttons did keep popping open at odd times. Maybe even because those buttons kept popping open at odd times, if you know what I mean? Though, got used to the new ones. Fact is, always kinda liked that you never went back to the old ones, you needing a bit more room than before. In fact, that one you 'ave on was always one of my favorites, with that middle button being just a little . . ."

That segue might have delayed the rest of the conversation, but it didn't prevent it.

"And there was the time . . . "

It seemed there had been SEVERAL times, and frankly, it would appear she hadn't been all that amused ANY of those times. The fact that they remembered only maybe a tenth of those situations, and NONE of the situations had even been a ripple as far as they had been concerned, had certainly never been a threat to their relationship? Well, the mere fact that she'd considered Megan Harris a threat had been quite telling, seeing as how Mrs. Harris was the hawk-faced, shrill voiced, matrimonially-challenged (but ever hopeful) mother of eight whiny children who never seemed to have a handkerchief among them. That was enough to make her point, loud and clear. There wasn't a damned thing logical about this whole situation!

 

Later, over a drink, that prolonged conversation having taken, what with one thing and another, the whole afternoon, Goniff frowned and admitted, "could be she's right, Craig. Lots of that stuff she was talking about, she'd never 'ave taken seriously, not our 'Gaida, not at any other time. And if she 'ad, she woulda just bashed us upside the 'ead, not gotten all weepy and worried and all, not like she says she did. And any thinking to get on 'er wrong side, well, they'd 'ave been lucky to get away with as little as that! Can't imagine how we didn't see any of that, though."

Garrison took a long swig, "we're probably better off we didn't see anything. We'd have probably just said the wrong thing and set her off. Bad enough with Lynn," remembering the hysterical bout of crying and throwing and cursing he'd set off while trying to talk sense to his younger sister earlier in the week.

"Can you imagine with Meghada??" and the two men glanced toward the kitchen, toward where their Dragon was punching down the bread in preparation for baking, and shuddered. Meghada on a tear was bad enough, Meghada deeply enmired in going-to-have-a-baby hormones? Her letting loose the 'inner Dragon'? That was past thinking of! No, they'd probably been better off oblivious.

 

They tiptoed out of the house, leaving the rest of the household sleeping sounding in the early morning mist. 

"You're sure you've found her, the right woman, Meghada?" Lynn was nervous and apprehensive and angry and defensive, and a whole slew of other emotions, only some of which she could actually put a name to.

"Oh, aye, the right woman, sure enough, Lynn. Name of Shiraz Abani. Found out she goes to work in her shop around ten, so we should get to London in time for a nice relaxing cup of tea at that little tea shop we both enjoy, then march around and have a word with her right when she opens. Fewer eyes and ears about then, anyway."

Meghada took a glance over at the woman seated next to her, smiling to herself, remembering all the times Lynn had acted as a stabilizing force for her. Oh, not just during her pregnancy, also right before, when they were plannning that trip back to the States for Meghada to meet Goniff's Mum and Aunt Moll. That had easily been the equal of even the worst of her baby-jitters; who would ever have thought packing a suitcase could reduce her to screaming with utter frustration?? Well, she hadn't made either of the older women's hair turn purple, of course. You just didn't do anything like that to your own sweet laddie's family. In a way, that made it worse, knowing she COULDN'T take dire action. 

Lynn barely touched her tea, kept casting an anxious eye toward her watch, but still jumped when Meghada announced, "think we'd best leave now, Lynn, to get there before she has any customers waiting."

It wasn't far, and a parking space came to view right in front of the oddly painted shop. "Turquoise - hardly a London color," Lynn puzzled, taking in the odd symbols around the door, the colorful turquoise and gold beads hanging in the large front window blocking their view of the inside. 

"Shiraz is Armenian; I believe the color has some special meaning in her culture. In fact, I seem to recall that a fine grade of turquoise is mined there, along with many other precious and semi-precious gems." Meghada held open the door, Lynn hearing the tinkle of the tiny bells that movement generated.

"Now, remember, let me do the introductions before you get too involved. You promised," Meghada warned, seeing Lynn start to tense as if in preparation for an angry outburst.

A lovely woman in maybe her middle fifties came from the back through a colorful curtain, smiling as she came toward them. "Good day, ladies. I may perhaps be of some service?" Meghada stepped forward quickly, seeing Lynn starting to speak.

"You are Shiraz Abani, the artist who owns this shop?" Meghada asked, getting an odd look from Lynn at the word 'artist'. For the first time Lynn took a good look around, and had to admit the veracity of that term. The shelves, the clear glass cases, were set up to display what could only be called works of art - stone and gems, silver and gold, worked to fine degree of beauty.

She got a serene nod in answer, though the other woman waited patiently for them to state their business.

"This is Lynn Garrison Mangiano; I believe you have some slight acquaintance with her husband? She wishes to discuss that with you, your involvement, your interaction, if you can spare the time?"

Lynn wasn't sure what she was expecting, but a look of sheer delight certainly hadn't been on the list.

"Come, come! You must sit and have tea, and I will show you! It is not yet completed, you understand. Such an undertaking cannot be hurried, but I think you will like what you see. Come," and with a wave of her elegant hands she motioned them through the curtain to a small room in the rear of the store. "Wait, I will put up the sign. We will not want interruptions!"

Lynn and Meghada waited, Meghada fighting to keep a smile off her face, Lynn's face showing her absolute bewilderment.

A cup of hot mint tea later and their hostess excused herself to bring a small chest of carved wood and a piece of dark gold velvet. Carefully she brought out the pieces, one by one. Sapphire drop earings chased in gold were first laid on the cloth. Then a necklace of a quiet elegance that in no way diminished the artistry or value of the piece. A wide bracelet came next, gold mesh interspersed with more sapphires. "There is another bracelet, but it is not complete; but you see what it will be like, since it is like this one, but more narrow. They are meant to be worn together, separated by these gold bands," reaching back into the chest to pull out a set of very narrow gold bracelets, simple and unornamented, just what was needed to let the other pieces shine forth in all their glory."

Lynn swallowed hard, lifting her eyes to Meghada's, seeing the kind and understanding smile now openly on her friend's face. "You knew?"

"Only after I teased Goniff into finding out the truth. I thought you needed to see for yourself."

Lynn turned to speak to Shiraz. "When did he commission these, if I might ask?"

The older woman beamed, "when he first knew he was to be a father. He said he wanted something very special for the much beloved mother of his child. It was not easy; many of the materials are not easy to obtain, especially for an immigrant shop owner. He took my requirements and made many of the purchases himself, bringing them to me so that I might create this very special gift. He must love you very much to commission my very finest work, for I was told to spare no detail, no expense."

Another cup of tea, then back to the car. Lynn looked over at Meghada, "and the property? That elegant establishment in a very discreet part of Mayfair?"

Meghada laughed. "Craig has been talking about needing a safe house, like the Clan uses. We could have used one on that Smithson affair; he was very uncomfortable with our needing to split forces like that. He didn't want the company name involved, and Actor assured him his contacts would be able to find just the thing. Would you like to drive by and see it? He suggested we might do so, if we found the time, to see if I thought it would be what he had in mind. If it suits our purpose, and if you like it, it might be just the place for the two of you to get away for a weekend every now and then. Even if we don't end up taking this place, there's always Odellinn; the lads have spent some time there, and they'll tell you it is quite comfortable, and our caretakers, Dolores and Renaldo, are quite attentive. You know you can count on me and the others to do a bit of babysitting. It might be the right occasion for him to present you with that pretty bit of sapphire elegance you say you found the receipt for. He always did particularly like you in that color, you know."

She wasn't unprepared for the newest spat of tears, was only glad that these seemed to be happy tears, not the ones she'd seen recently. She waited patiently, til a small hiccup signaled the end, along with one final sniff. "Yes, to both, I think. I would love to see the house, and I would love to take you up on the offer of Odellinn in any case. I see a small discussion in our future, one involving the wisdom of keeping secrets from a pregnant wife, no matter how well intentioned."

"One involving some making up, too?" Meghada asked with a smile.

A slightly watery chuckle answered her, "oh most certainly, some making up will definitely be on the agenda."


End file.
